


Permanency

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [88]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Modification, Community: kink_bingo, Cutting, Definitely not AoS, Jossed, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, SHIELD Husbands, Scarification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is unhappy that he won't be able to wear his wedding ring in the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Permanency

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Scars/Scarification
> 
> **Author's Note** : This story contains a graphic description of cutting and blood.

"You're sure about this, Phil?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

"'Cause it's totally OK if you're not. I'll do it myself..."

"You are absolutely not doing this yourself. If I wasn't OK with doing it, I wouldn't have offered, and instead I would have found you a reputable tattoo parlour that does this... sort of thing," Phil said, serious.

The table in front of them was spread with medical supplies. Clint's left hand rested on a large folded towel. There was a bottle of antiseptic and a spray-pump of topical anesthetic. There were two surgical scalpels still sealed in their sterile wrappers, and a pile of gauze squares and bandages.

"I... thank you, Phil. It means a lot to me."

"I know."

~~~~~

Clint had opened the discussion in the week before their wedding.

"I hate the idea of taking my ring off every time we're called out. Not to mention for everyday practice."

"You could wear it on a chain around your neck all the time, instead, if you'd rather," Phil had said, "I wouldn't mind."

"But I would! Phil, I love the idea of being married to you. I love the idea of wearing your ring. I'm just really concerned that it's going to take way, way too long before I'm comfortable shooting with it on. I'll try, I mean, I'll practice with it on every day, but I can't afford for my aim to be off even a tiny fraction if we get called out..." Clint was deeply unhappy and it showed.

"We could get different rings, smaller, lighter - titanium or something, would that help?"

"It might, but I love our rings, Phil. I love that they're the ones we wore on that undercover mission. I love that you had them modified so that they'd really be ours. And they're the ones you showed me when you proposed. They're the ones I want us to get married with and the ones I want us to wear. And I do want to wear mine. As often as I can, it's just..."

"You can't afford for anything to mess with your aim, I know. I understand, love. I just can't think of a solution."

"There's... something I thought of."

"I'm all ears."

"If you hate the idea, tell me, and I'll drop it, I promise."

"I was thinking, that maybe if I had a... mark, something permanent, on my ring finger, that would always be there even if I took the ring off."

"You mean like a tattoo?"

"That's one option, but I'd prefer something that I can feel." Clint rubbed his thumb across the base of his left ring-finger, then brushed his fingertips across the Ranger tattoo on Phil's forearm. Then he moved his hand to a silver-white scar on Phil's ribs, the reminder of a time he'd zigged when he should have zagged. Clint's fingers brushed across the small puckered ridge. 

"I was thinking of maybe a scar. Just two lines, like the lines on the rings. It'd even be a little safer - I don't do undercover work any more, but you never know. A tattoo on your ring finger is pretty obvious, but I'm covered in scars..." Clint trailed off, looking into Phil's face for his reaction.

"It won't throw off your aim while it's healing?" was Phil's first question, and Clint sighed in relief.

"No. I don't know why, I guess because I've been shooting injured, well, pretty much all my life. My body just automatically compensates for it." Phil couldn't deny that, having seen Clint make a shot with broken glass in his draw arm, with a bullet in his shoulder, with a knife-wound in his side...

"I don't hate the idea, and I can see why you want something... tangible. Would you do something for me though?"

"'Course Phil."

"Would you give it at least a week, after the wedding, of getting used to wearing the ring all the time, and practicing with it? It's possible you'll learn to compensate for it more quickly than you think, and that you'll be able to shoot with it on."

"Sure, Phil, of course. That's fair."

Yesterday, Clint had come into their suite and flopped down on the sofa, looking dejected. "It's OK if I have all the time in the world, but if I try to shoot with any kind of speed, I'm a quarter of an inch off at 200 yards," he said, running his thumb over his wedding ring again and again.

Phil sat down next to him, "So, do you want to do what we talked about?"

"Yeah, Phil. If you're still OK with it, I do." 

"I'm OK with it." Phil looked down for a second, embarrassed, "I did some research, you know, in case it turned out like this, and I uh... I've been practicing."

"Practicing?" Clint's voice sounded almost panicked and he looked at Phil's hands and arms for any signs of injury. 

"On apples and plums, Clint."

"Oh, right. Of course. Hang on, you've been practicing? But I never asked you to..."

"No, you didn't. But unless you'd rather I didn't, I'd like to do it."

"Shit, Phil, of course I want you to do it, if you're serious about being OK with it, I mean. I'd love you to do it!"

~~~~~

Clint slipped his wedding ring off his finger, the first time he'd removed it since Phil had put it there over a week ago. He clutched it tightly for a second and then put it down on the table, well out of the way.

Phil tore open a large gauze square and saturated it with antiseptic. He handed it to Clint. 

"Your whole hand - between all your fingers. Rub hard."

"Yes boss." Clint started scrubbing conscientiously at his hand. He'd already showered and washed with anti-bacterial soap, as per Phil's instructions, and if he felt Phil's precautions were a little over zealous, he kept those thoughts to himself. He was incredibly happy that Phil was OK with him doing this in the first place, and incredibly grateful that Phil was willing to do it himself.

While he was scrubbing, Phil pulled on a pair of latex medical gloves and unwrapped the sterile scalpel. He laid on another large gauze square, and tore open a number of smaller ones setting them ready to hand.

"Ready when you are," Clint said. 

"OK." Phil picked up the topical anesthetic. "Hold out your hand." 

"I don't really need - "

"Yes, I know, you can take it, but I want it this way, OK? Unless there's something else going on here that you haven't told me about." Phil looked up at him sharply.

"No, no, absolutely not. Go ahead." Clint held out his left hand and nodded at the spray pump in Phil's right.

Phil sprayed Clint's hand with the anesthetic and then told him to lay it flat on the towel, with his fingers spread as far apart as possible.

"Ready?"

"Absolutely." Clint smiled. He trusted Phil unreservedly.

"OK." Phil smiled back with no trace of nerves showing.

Phil picked up a small gauze square in his left hand, and then used it to hold Clint's ring finger steady on the towel. He made the first cut, a slice an inch long. Blood welled, and he dabbed it with the gauze. He looked up at Clint.

"OK?"

"Yes. Fine."

Phil bent his head back to his task, swabbed the blood away again, and made a second slice, parallel to and just below the first one. Phil dropped the small gauze square and picked up a second one, carefully cleaning the blood away from both cuts. This was the delicate part. He worked the tip of the scalpel under the narrow strip of skin and detached it, using the sharp edge of the scalpel to cut the attachment at one end, and then wiping the field clean again with the gauze. The little curl of skin was still attached at the other end, and Phil carefully severed it. He wiped it away with the gauze, and looked at the result. There was a thin red line, an inch long and 1/16th of an inch wide on Clint's ring finger.

"Still OK?" Phil asked, looking up into Clint's face.

Clint was looking at the mark on his finger. He nodded, and then said, "Yes. Yes, it's good. Do the second one?"

"Yes." Phil dropped the small gauze square and picked up a fresh one. The second line went faster, Phil was more sure of himself, and he didn't stop again to check with Clint until he was finished. 

"This part might sting," Phil said as he pulled over a small plastic bowl and uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Clint held his hand over the bowl and Phil poured the liquid over his hand. 

Clint hissed a little as the peroxide fizzed, but didn't move.

Phil gently patted the wound dry, then wrapped it in a thin layer of non-stick gauze and a piece of medical tape. 

"All done. You good?"

Clint picked up his wedding ring and slipped it back onto his finger. It sat just above the strip of tape.

"Now I am," he smiled at Phil. 

"Wash it twice a day with antibacterial soap and then peroxide for the first week, by then you should be able to dispense with the gauze and tape... well, you know the drill."

"Yeah. Thank you Phil. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome. I love you."

"I love you too. Want to cuddle on the sofa and watch a movie?"

"Sounds great."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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